Ironman Arizona Race Report: Part II

I escape the clutches of the med tent and I try to hurry through transition. It's a good thing I have volunteers to help me dress. I am fumbling around and not real clear-headed. I am still cold, but functional.

I get out on the bike course and find my heart rate is sky high, but I am not getting much speed. When I hit the false flats, I can't seem to go more than eleven m.p.h. It feel like shades of the first ironman race I attempted where the wind was howling and I wasn't getting any speed no matter how hard I tried. If I couldn't speed up, I would not be able to finish the race.

In my distraction, I veered over to a bunch of orange cones and promptly crashed. Someone was nice enough to stop and help me. My bike and I were O.K., but I had some road rash and I banged my shoulder pretty good. My shoulder would hurt the rest of the race. I finally got to the top of the turn around and I started pushing the pace going downhill. Luckily the winds were with me and I could make up some speed. There was a lot of illegal drafting and passing on the highway, but I was too slow to have that problem.

There weren't many bystanders on the highway other than at the aid stations, so the ride was kind of tedious a lot of the time. Once in a while I would see a guy peeing on the bike. One guy impressed me because he managed to whip it out and pee off to the side. I stayed well back of these people. I was utterly tired and miserable. Usually the first loop you are supposed to feel good, but I felt terrible. I was exerting a lot of energy, but not getting any power. As I was heading back into town, a guy with a microphone on a motorcycle asked me why I was doing the ironman. I couldn't really think of anything clever to say. Hopefully, I won't be on camera anywhere.

I got done with the first loop in about 13.6 m.p.h., which was too slow. I still had a fighting chance if I could go faster. It was nice to come into the Mill Avenue area because you knew that another loop was done and there were people to cheer you. It picked you up so you could endure the highway again.

I picked up the pace going out on the second loop and I was shocked that I had some actual speed. I figured that when I had a cold core, blood wasn't carrying enough oxygen to my muscles. It was a relief. It was like night and day from the first loop. I was pretty sure by the time I got to the top of the turn around that I would be able to make the three o'clock cut-off. A small victory.

I finished the second loop about 2:35 p.m. I was on new ground now-an actual third bike loop. Most people were coming into transition about this time. The highway was getting more and more deserted. I felt O.K. climbing again, but I was ready to get the bike over with. The shadows were growing longer and the light was turning orange. I beat the four o'clock cut-off by 20 minutes. As I was going downhill, I saw people still desperately going uphill trying to beat the cut-off, including one guy on a handcycle. I hope he made it.

The memory of the pain I felt is already fading. My quads hurt, my shoulder hurt and my butt hurt. I knew this race would be difficult, but I was giving all I had to make it. Normally you bike in an aerobic zone in order to have energy for the run, but I was going a little anaerobic to beat the cut-offs. It was taking a lot out of me.

As I passed a 109 mile marker, I realized that I was going to exceed the most distance I had ever done in one day on a bike. I was also going to beat the sun-set, and the 5:30 cut-off. I had broken barriers and was on my way to becoming an ironman.

As I came into transition, I saw my coaches cheering me. We have been on a long journey together, from the despair I had not finishing the last time to the joy of soon accomplishing a goal I had been chasing for two years. You don't complete an ironman on your own and they were some of the people that helped me along the way.